Tuesday, February 28, 2006
...pour Patrones de Boca Ratonera
Le desidres social de ambos Boca Raton M*therF*cker y le adolescente s’ennuyeux de Florida Arrabal rencontres. Lun l’autre cogides de tonto modo.
'Trend diet’ pousse suyo frivolidad.
Posted by LordSomber at 2:08 PM
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Warm fuzzies are just dandy as an end in itself, but what if they’re used as the means to get from A to B?
Yearnings for desired appearances are inarguably mundane and pedestrian, but the rush towards tidy outcomes seems to favour the icing over the cake — illustrating an inversion of the means/ends dichotomy.
In other words, nuking a puppy is seen as some brilliant shortcut. Is this really going to fly?
Converse to conventional wisdom, one who knows the value of ends without the cost of means pays the price in the end by looking like an arse.
Posted by LordSomber at 5:03 PM
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
The cultural awareness of sugar-coated cereal mascots trumps the withered, outdated assumptions of powerbroker-wannabees trolling small-town cholesterol bars, scheming for petty advantages in big-fish/small-pond scenarios.
Buy off a Commissioner? Intimidate local media?
Propeller-heads of reason will punge accordingly.
Posted by LordSomber at 7:17 PM
Their prey is not necessarily colony-specific: the material Haves and Have-Nots may be equally targeted, as the sole Feed Determinate is actually the Sounding Board Factor [SBF], also known as the Open Ear Variable, or, in street parlance, the just-being-polite ‘Hey, guess what?’
Social engagements may include SBF encounters, where parasites’ Personal Issues are freely peppered throughout the episode. Thus the listener can be burdened with:
• Tales of Woe™ that retard the temporal flow
• Subdued deployment of EnvyBait™ as positing negative strokes
• A plea for monetary gain, supplemented by the Injustice Narrative
• An exponential rise in the Sounding Board Factor during Brood Cycle, when most issues fester
Suggested solutions to countering the Social Parasite:
• A Pungeoning Stimulus is handy in decontaminating ego states, by either awakening the perpetrator to their illogic or confusing them enough for you to make a quick exit.
• The Gestalt Punge is to be used in extreme circumstances, such as encounters with parasites who follow Tragic Scripts. A total Psy-Discount of all power plays should suitably shred any perceived Mental Contracts.
Posted by LordSomber at 6:45 PM
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
This has been a test of the Emotive Response System. Skid Row types down on their luck may use dairy products reflexively as a surrogate libation that may have unintended results: The frantic attempt at quaffing available liquids may overwhelm the intake threshold and gullet capacity, resulting in a loss of face as fluid expulsion soils one’s countenance. At the opposite end of the social scale, this routine is equally common with collegiate alumnoids.
Posted by LordSomber at 7:08 PM
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Extremes of BodyMod™: Self-doubting FrankenTitty pursuits of socially accepted physiques.
Extremes of SocialStance™: Self-subsuming deployment of strategic lobotomoid Brittneyism as glib, simpering TrophyBait.
Extremes of BodyMod™: Contrarian nether-piercing as Rejectile Individuality Statement™.
Extremes of SocialStance™: Puerile airs of oppugnance against both rationalism and romanticism, with the added self-insult of adult pity-pandering.
Female notions of ‘empowerment’ abound across the social spectrum. Unfortunately, many rely upon simplistic visual façades to project deeper conceits of need, worth, protest, ego, etc.
All of which are valid issues until adopted pretenses engender (no pun intended) diminishing returns, resulting in the propagation of conspicuous clichés which, in the end, reveal a larger truth:
Empowerment Assertions = Self-Marketing
Posted by LordSomber at 8:35 PM
sifting through butts and broken glass
digging, finding A Lie in the New Babylon
The limitations of ekiyek pwëcëkkün positivism -- apwangapwang. paydirt, once found, turns aseu -- the uroborus maxim of completion becomes rong meyi wumwes chëk maan -- mal de siècle in toto.
Posted by LordSomber at 6:46 PM
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
“The only thing I was ever good at: rolling a tight number... but not too tight.”
Many laud ‘living in the moment’ as the pinnacle of existential vitality, encouraging activity at ‘the edge’ in order to savor the taste of the present.
Jeez. Living in the present is great and all, and is probably the way one should live, but one must ﬁrst consider the Big Picture in order to see where experience becomes a ﬂexible schematic, where means become ends, and where ‘good intentions’ wind up.
Kids are caught up in the moment... Buzzes without context... Tearing it all up for the sake of itself...
In the spirit of living in the moment, one may forget to adhere to the most basic of principles… ones we all supposedly learned in kindergarten…
“I coulda made it. I saw the drum circle and puppet performance protest acrosst the street. I was gonna have my say... But I couldn’t run in ﬂip-ﬂops...”
But still you must Look Both Ways
An added post-script: Truckers shouldn't do drugs either, just because you may do some Public Good like running over frivolous Hippie Wannabes.
Posted by LordSomber at 7:57 PM
Friday, February 03, 2006
The argument against chance presentiment and sybylline auguration are moot when you are a Fly on the Ceiling.
The taxing slavery of logic is of an all-encompassing anti-nature when considering instances of prescience regardless of any temporal context...
And so the question is not whom not to place faith in, but how much to bank on that buzz inside your head.
Posted by LordSomber at 7:29 PM
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Believe it or not, last night the Concrete Ship was actually not completely washed away; in fact, it remains just a couple hundred yards off the beach. The Scavenger League stormed the ship that night with a rain-shortened attempt at the helm. Unfortunately, the barbarians from Lewes had nine strikes from across the bay when the battle was officially over.
On the beach, Baron Schmidt DeKenville blasted a long two-run cannonade, launching 2-for-4 for the mast, while Leonarde Crabbe attempted to cut off the Concrete Ship's tug.
Spectators feared that the Concrete Ship would fall to the same fate as Towne Bank, the villa that was completely submerged by Neptune's wrath one unexpected eve decades ago.
In the opening volley, sea peddlers managed to loot the ship all the while she was pitching and listing. Of kinder souls and the survivors of Towne Bank's Haute Battalion, most were trudging through the surf, trying to salvage what they could. Captain Lyons did a fair enough job until he was abducted aboard the Westigheim. Fanning eight Peddler sails while the remaining tars scagged two to three barrels each, the Scavenger League vainly tried burning the Concrete Ship. Alas, concrete does not burn.
Posted by LordSomber at 6:17 PM